One Day
by Yukina-Raven
Summary: The world is reset. Everyone has been born anew. Everyone but those who ascended to the level of a god.


The city streets are busy with their usual activity. A woman is dragged along by a pack of dogs on leashes. A couple argues loudly outside a coffee shop. Children are laughing and chasing each other, weaving through the throng of people without a care in the world. Aligning the sidewalks are shops selling unique wares, the vendors shouting and calling for the people to stop and look. Most wander right by because their mind is set on meeting someone or getting somewhere. A summer festival, overtaking the city, stops all traffic and no cars are in sight. People mill about in the streets, talking and laughing and living. They could never know that the world has been reborn. They don't know that a game destroyed it and only a reset button was the salvation. They couldn't know that the button had been "pressed" and that everything was not like it was before.

He likes music and photography, perhaps the latter more than the former. He'll go to music shows and photograph everything. The lights, the stage, the musicians, the crowd and even the way the sky looks obscured by unnatural stage lights. His favorite subjects to snap photos of are people. He sits on a bench in the park or at a bus stop and takes pictures. He snaps photos of the young and old, people in love and people alone, those with destines and those destined to disappear. When he scrolls through them on his computer, though, he feels like he's looking for someone. His eyes search for faces on the screen that aren't there. A flash of blue or green or purple make his head turn but it's never what he was looking for.

Then his roommate calls, "Come on, Dave, we gotta go." and he forgets what he was looking for, grabbing his bag and leaving it all behind.

She lives in libraries, nose buried in a book as often as possible. She works there, always cheerful, and ties her long black hair all up in a messy bun. She pins it in place so that it doesn't get in the way of her reading. She reads all kinds of books; nonfiction, fiction, biographies, poetry, stories about love, stories about death, documentaries and history books. Anything she can pull from the shelves she will read, bright green eyes scanning the pages rapidly behind her round glasses. She always reads with a smile on her face as she gets lots in the material. And when she goes home for the day, walking back to her apartment on the outskirts of the city, she prepares for the next day in which she will read again. She sleeps with her dog at the foot of her bed and dreams of what she read that day. Yet as she reads she feels like she's looking for something. She dives into each novel with a sense of purpose, like she's looking for a way to change things or resolve a problem she can no longer remember.

Then her dog licks her cheek to snap her out of her story and she laughs, scratching him fondly behind the ear.

She is very wealthy and goes to an expensive college for fashion design. She isn't done with school yet but she's already going to be hired at the place she's been interning at all semester. Her own dress is superb, a blend of classy and modern styles that turn heads everywhere she goes. She's beautiful enough to be a model, blond hair kept short and face always touched up with make up. Everyday she goes to early morning classes and then straight to her internship. From seven until five she is sketching ideas, consulting with big wigs and hunched over fabric with a sewing machine. Sometimes she sews by hands when the project is much too delicate for the rough whirring of a machine. When she isn't working is when the real fun begins and she can make whatever type of clothing she wants. Her large apartment space is filled corner to corner with in progress projects and mannequins. Sashed away and out of sight are clothes she isn't sure why she created with symbols on them she's never seen before but somehow exist within her mind. A broken record, a sun… and the colors green, blue and red taking a large presence in nearly everything she makes. She wonders what it all means.

Then she gets an important phone call from her boss demanding an emergency creation for a show next week and she forgets what she was pondering.

He lives on rooftops and spends his time as a ghost. He watches the people below, legs dangling over the edge of the building, and smiles. He sees everything. His time is frozen. His space is never changing. No one knows he's there but he knows them. He searches for them, watches them and sometimes protects them even when he's not suppose to. He is alone, the god who reset the world.

They go about their lives as people do. He takes pictures, she reads books and she sews clothing.

Then he stops in front of a wall covered in graffiti. She drops a book and pauses in picking it up. She walks past a window displaying jewelry and freezes.

There's a symbol spray painted on the wall, engraved on the cover of the book and hanging as a charm from a golden chain. It looks like waves in the ocean, two lines that curve beside each other. The top curls like the tip of a wave. Perhaps not the ocean after all, but the wind. They look at it and feel like something is wrong.

There is a feeling that something has been lost.

Then his cell phone rings, she puts the book back on the shelf and she continues down the sidewalk.

But he's still there, watching from above. The breeze pushes past them, knocks papers from his hand, pulls her hair down from the pins and makes her scarf dance in the wind.

They gripe about the inconvenience but for some reason find themselves smiling. It will follow them forever.


End file.
